


Just Another Cheesy Porno Fic

by SinpaiCasanova (Bladerunnerblue)



Series: The adventures of Steve and Bucky: Professional porn stars [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Jokes, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Casting Couch, Come Marking, Crack Treated Seriously, Kissing, M/M, Minor Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark, Not Beta Read, Pining, Porn Video, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Sex Tapes, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Steve ripping a hole in Bucky's pants like a caveman, Strangers to Lovers, Subspace, That cheesy/terribly awkward dialog from every porno ever, The Author Regrets Everything, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-13 16:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21164867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bladerunnerblue/pseuds/SinpaiCasanova
Summary: There's not a whole lot of talking going on between them other than the repetitive swearing from Steve and the muffled little "uh-huhs" from Bucky when Steve asks him if he likes it.People don't usually watch porn for the dialog, and Steve knows that somewhere in the back of his head, but he still feels as if he needs to keep talking to Bucky, or just to himself, even though Bucky's doing his absolute best to make uttering a single word nearly impossible as he attempts to suck Steve's brains out through his dick.





	Just Another Cheesy Porno Fic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frostbitebakery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostbitebakery/gifts).

> There is nothing redeemable about this. It's just porn. 4,755 words of buttfucking with a whisper of plot. That's it.
> 
> It's also been a while since I wrote straight up porn, so I apologize if it's not the best. At least it's out of my system.
> 
> This fic was also inspired by Frostbitebakery's depiction of Steve in glasses and an undercut, because yes. I need that in my life.

“Nervous?” Asks the director from where he’s seated in a fold-out chair across from where Steve is lounging on the bed; his back pressed against the headboard and left side nestled close to the absolutely _ gorgeous _ brunette perched beside him.

His partner for the next hour or so is a lithe little slip of a thing, long-legged and lean, with defined musculature in his arms and belly, but softer around the thighs and ass, just the way he likes it. This man is essentially the star of every wet dream Steve's ever had, with his shoulder-length wavy hair that Steve reckons would make a great handlebar, a jawline sharper than a double-edged sword, and big, deep-set livid eyes that are brighter than Steve's future at the moment. 

From what Steve can see, his entire left arm up to the shoulder is covered in ink. The winding stems of a rose bush start at the large knuckles of his fingers and spiral up to the blooming petals of red and black on his bicep. Sharp thorns and green leaves sprout from the stem in bursts of color, and tucked within the center of the large black rose on his shoulder is a red five-point star.

He has a few other tattoos that Steve can barely see hidden underneath his clothing; like the purple bow and arrow on his right hip, just visible where the hem of his soft gray singlet is rucked up a little. There's also a falcon swooping down to attack what he thinks is a Kraken on the right side of his chest, based on the rust-colored tentacles he notices by the birds outstretched wings. Behind his right ear is a tiny black widow spider concealed by the silky locks of his hair, and Steve wonders what each of them means, if they even have any significance to him at all, that is. 

Needless to say, he's a distracting human being in the best way imaginable, and Steve can't wait to take him apart with his mouth. Even if they'll also have a captive audience to witness the encounter for the low, low price of $9.95. 

“A little,” Steve murmurs once he's cleared his throat, anxiously nudging his thick-rimmed glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. Said gorgeous brunette–whose name just so happens to be Bucky–watches from the corner of his stormy gray eyes; a smile tugging at the corner of his naturally pouty lips. “Mostly pre-game jitters, though, I think. ”

“Right,” Says the director, conversationally. “‘Cause you’ve never done this before, have you?”

The director–a dark-haired man with an impeccably groomed goatee and warm brown eyes that also carry a touch of mania in them–smiles expectantly at him. There are cameras positioned in front of the bed, recording their every move and word for the ravenous viewers of **_BarebackBrooklynBoys.com_**. 

Sound equipment and bright, studio lighting filled the already tiny hotel room they were shooting this in, and besides the two other people he’d already become faintly acquainted with, about a dozen or so production crew members were also jammed in here right along with them, making his skin feel a size or two too small from the sudden spike of claustrophobia he's also experiencing.

The director had introduced himself as Tony in the quick pre-scene consultation, back when this was just a spur of the moment decision Steve made to earn some easy cash.

He’d filled out an application online and got a call a few days later, asking him if he’d like to participate in one of their _ straight guy fucks a fella for the first time _ videos, and Steve, who is both a starving artist one late payment away from an eviction notice and a raging bisexual who’d never had the pleasure of being with a man, obviously said yes.

That decision led him to this particular juncture, half-hard with a belly full of nerves and a bubbling arousal in his veins for what was soon to come.

"No, I haven't," Steve answered with a coy smile, turning his eyes on Bucky, who was grinning sweetly for the camera. "It's my first time with a man so I'm fresh meat, I suppose."

"He _supposes_." Bucky snorts at the terrible attempt at a joke, but awful or not, it had the desired effect Steve was after. It got Bucky to smile at him

"What about you, Bucky bear?" Tony then asks. "You excited? Ready to break this one in?"

"Hell yeah." Bucky agrees with a waggle of his eyebrows, and Steve feels himself swoon a little from how cocksure he is. "Been waiting to get my hands on this one since we got here."

"All things in good time, kiddo." Tony admonishes playfully, giving Bucky a wink no one but them can see. "Just a few more questions and then I'll get out of your hair, yeah?"

They both nod, smiling like fools at the prospect of tearing into one another like starving men at a buffet.

Unlike Bucky, Steve was a literal Adonis, with a ripped body carved from marble and eyes so blue they put the sky to shame. His bearded jaw was square and his nose aquiline; the end result of far too many reckless scraps and broken noses as a kid.

But rather than marring his beauty, it only gave him a more distinguished look. One that Bucky was obviously into, if the glances he's been giving Steve held any truth in them.

His skin wasn't quite as ornate as Bucky's was; with only the delicate branches of a cherry blossom tree snaking up his back from his right hip all the way up to his left shoulder, and an eagle clutching a red star in its poised talons in the center of his chest. Although, the jewelry in his ears (a red pitchfork impaling the top and bottom of his right and a pink wing to pierce the top of his left) and his platinum blond undercut more than made up for that, in his opinion.

By the looks of it, Bucky seems to agree.

"So," Tony starts, directing his line of questioning at Steve now. "Tell us a little about yourself."

"Well, I, uh–" Steve pauses, digging through his mind for the things that made him distinguishable from every other Joe out there. "My name is Steve Rogers. I'm twenty-five. I'm sort of an artist, per se–mostly charcoal sketches and oil paintings. Brooklyn born and bred, been here all my life. Just a typical city boy, I guess."

"And are you normally into guys or–"

"It's something I've always wanted to try," Steve admits. "Sometimes you've just gotta jump out there and take a chance, you know? Do things that scare you every once in a while."

"And does this scare you, Steve?" Tony questions, his tone without a hint of judgment. Steve shakes his head because he's not afraid of this. Not really. It's more of a _ 'jump in now and learn how to swim later' _ type of thing for him, which Tony already knew. They went over the logistics of what this scene would entail for Steve before he even got the call to be apart of the film. 

The on-camera interview is strictly for the audience, making it appear as if Steve was just randomly dragged in off the street to star in a skin flick.

He's met Bucky once before, about a day or two after he'd accepted the temporary job, and they'd talked a little just to break the ice and make things run a bit more smoothly when the time came to do the scene.

In that twenty-minute conversation, Steve learned a few things of note about Bucky. His real name is actually James Buchanan Barnes, but anyone with a pulse called him Bucky since he couldn't stomach being another James in an endless sea of Jameses. He almost exclusively bottoms, but can be persuaded to top if the mood strikes him just right. He also writes Hannigram slash fiction in his spare time because, _ "Honestly, Steve, we all know that Hanni eats Will's ass with an actual knife and fork, I'm just giving voice to what's already there." _which doesn't sound all that appealing to Steve, but hey, to each their own.

It's actually a little jarring to see him so reserved when earlier he was all but bouncing off the walls with that bubbly, sweet personality of his. It's almost like a switch is flipped when the camera is rolling, and now he's all predatory charm and swagger that could make even the great James Dean cream his pants.

Tony rattles off a few more things for the viewers, talking about how experienced Bucky is in contrast to Steve, who's never so much as touched a dick that wasn't his own.

"I'm sure it's safe to assume that you like getting your dick sucked, yeah?"

Steve can't help but blush, chuckling around the _ "yeah," _ in his mouth. The tips of Bucky's ears go red as well, but he's moved his hand from the bedspread to settle high on Steve's thigh, giving it a teasing squeeze that tells Steve he's anything but shy.

"Well, from what I've gathered, Bucky here is a master at sucking cock, aren't you, sweetheart?" 

Bucky's pupils dilate a little at the praise, but his eyes remain trained on Steve when he nods. It's almost like Tony's not even in the room with them anymore.

"And from what you've told me, you're kind of an anal guy, right? Which is always a good thing when your working with someone like Bucky. His ass is juicer than a Georgia peach, don't you think, Steve?" 

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, going a little breathless from the intensity of Tony's interview. He's always had a proclivity for anal, whether it's with women or men, even though he only has experience with the latter. That's part of the reason why he's here in the first place.

Besides the promise of keeping a roof over his head, Steve has always wanted to know a man's body as intimately as he's known a woman's. He's not the best at meeting people the traditional way, and trying to hook up with guys via apps just doesn't appeal to him at all. At the time, this seemed like a good solution to solving both his money issues and his growing desire for male company. 

It still does, if he's honest with himself. The fact that the fella he's about to sleep with is drop-dead gorgeous is just an added bonus for him.

Tony makes a few more quips that Steve barely pays attention to, getting a little lost in the heat simmering in Bucky's eyes. But then he hears him say to Bucky_ "give him a little kiss, sugar," _ and Bucky does. Just like that.

He shifts his weight up onto his knees, cups the back of Steve's neck with his left hand and presses their lips together like it's the most natural thing in the world to him.

They're practically strangers, paid to fuck each other on camera for horny viewers to beat their meat to, but the kiss Bucky presses to his eager lips is slow and sweet, measured and just a little restrained, like they're tentatively rounding the bases after a third date that went well enough for sex. And isn't _ that _ a thought, huh?

Steve wouldn't mind taking Bucky out to dinner, being _ that guy _ that brings him flowers and sends sappy texts at random, but he doubts Bucky'd be interested in anything long-term.

Nevertheless, he lets himself melt into it, parting his lips at the inquisitive nip of Bucky's teeth and groaning lowly when their tongues finally touch. His mouth fills with the taste of Bucky, and it's a heady mix of cinnamon toothpaste and that vanilla lip balm he'd put on right before they started recording.

The smell of him is just as addicting as the taste, and Steve breathes deep as he tangles a hand into Bucky's hair and _ tugs, _ releasing that freshly showered, spicy citrus scent and a moan that makes Steve's toes curl in his socks.

They're both still fully clothed; Steve in a t-shirt and jeans and Bucky in a singlet and what looks like yoga pants, they're so fucking tight on him. It leaves nothing to the imagination, and perhaps that's the point. It makes it easier to visualize what's underneath all that soft cotton, even though they're about to see every inch of skin Bucky has to offer up. It's almost like Bucky's teasing them just as much as he is Steve, and that shouldn't be so goddamn _ appealing _ to him, but it is. It really fucking is.

Steve pulls him down into his lap, heedless of their audience as he slides his hands down to cup the underside of Bucky's thighs, kneading the soft flesh a bit roughly as he moves up to grip his ass with purpose.

_ "Fuck-" _ Bucky gasps into his mouth, grinding down to find sweet friction in the place he wants it the most. Steve can definitely see why Bucky was chosen to publically pop his cherry on camera. He goes so soft and pliant the second Steve gets a little rough with him, easy for it like he needs Steve's touch about as badly as he needs air in his lungs.

Steve bites down on his lower lip and pulls possessively, not enough for it to really hurt, but enough to get his eyes rolling back with a little zip of pain as they continue rutting against each other like a couple of horny teenagers.

Bucky retaliates in kind, nipping and sucking at Steve's mouth until his lips are cherry red and kiss-swollen. He bets he paints a pretty picture right about now, with his eyes hooded and blown black with passion, right hand slipping down the back of Bucky's pants to press a dry finger against his hole.

He's aware that the bedside tables are stocked full of lube and condoms, and that it's not exactly ideal to try and penetrate his partner dry, but he also has a hunch that Bucky likes a bit of pain with his pleasure.

And just as he'd speculated, Bucky presses back and whimpers, putting on a show for the viewers and the production crew alike; his hands are twisted in his hair, head thrown back in ecstasy, hips bouncing and circling slowly as if he's actually riding Steve and not just torturing him.

The pressure against his dick is getting a little too unbearable as he grows harder in his jeans, and Bucky's really no better by the time Steve grows impatient and pins him on his back, stripping off his singlet as quickly as he can; flinging it somewhere in Tony's general direction.

His own shirt follows a few seconds later as Bucky works on the button and zipper of his jeans, finally freeing Steve's cock from the confines of its cotton and denim prison and wasting no time at all getting his mouth on it.

The position is awkward and doesn't really allow Bucky to show off his skillset; what with Steve's knees planted next to his shoulders, keeping him from lifting his head the way he wants to.

However, Tony was absolutely right in what he'd said before: Bucky is a master at sucking cock. But then again, he'd already assumed that the second he'd laid eyes on Bucky's cupid's bow of a mouth. 

Steve stutters out a curse, fingers fisting into the back of Bucky's hair as he swallows him down to the root in one go. Steve isn't abnormally big, but he's thicker than most and veiny to boot, which creates quite a sensation when it's filling his partner up, dragging over that sweet spot that makes stars burst behind their eyes with every thrust. 

He feels Bucky's tongue trace over each and every one of them, sucking gently on the head while his hands play with Steve's balls; rolling them gently in his palm.

There's not a whole lot of talking going on between them other than the repetitive swearing from Steve and the muffled little _ "uh-huhs" _ from Bucky when Steve asks him if he likes it. 

People don't usually watch porn for the dialog, and Steve knows that somewhere in the back of his head, but he still feels as if he _ needs _ to keep talking to Bucky, or just to himself, even though Bucky's doing his absolute best to make uttering a single word nearly impossible as he attempts to suck Steve's brains out through his dick.

Steve tugs him off in a desperate bid _ not _ to come like a two-pump chump on video, but the point is nearly moot when he opens his eyes and gets a good look at Bucky; lying there on his back with his tangled hair fanned around his head like a halo, tongue swiping across spit-slicked lips and cheeks flushed in the prettiest blush Steve's ever seen, mouth a lovely shade of red that makes Steve want to bite his lips bloody.

He doesn't, much to his own displeasure. Tony explicitly told him that scratching, biting, and slapping that leave marks or draw blood would not be tolerated in any way, shape or form. He doesn't want hickeys on his actors and blood is one of Bucky's hard limits, so instead, he dips his head down and licks into Bucky's mouth, savoring all the little sounds he makes that drive Steve to the brink of insanity.

They continue as Steve trails his mouth across his cheek and down the line of his smooth jaw, raising in pitch the closer he gets to Bucky's inked chest.

Now that his torso is bare, Steve can see that the tattoo of the falcon and the Kraken is much larger than he'd anticipated. The Kraken is enormous, with rusty tentacles slithering around his right side to his back and shoulder, and near his stomach is a perfectly rendered white wolf, rearing up defensively on its back legs with tattered tentacles clamped in its maw; its snowy fur streaked crimson with blood that could have come from either creature.

There's also an eagle depicted on his sternum; beak open in a shrill warrior's cry and talons poised to strike. It hits him then, what this piece really is. It's a battle scene; each creature representing something or someone specific. The vengeful eagle, the dutiful falcon, the wounded white wolf. All working together to take down a single foe. Even the bow and arrow on his hip is pointed up toward the Kraken, and if Steve had to guess, the black widow perched in her web would be aiming her venomous fangs downward toward the beast as well.

Steve's fingers twitch as he reverently traces the image on Bucky's torso with his tongue. He wants to sketch the skirmish in all its glory, capturing the vicious beauty in thick lines of charcoal on paper. Perhaps he'd even have a chance to talk with Bucky, inquire about the meaning hidden within the vibrant ink over coffee or something. But that wouldn't be an appropriate thing to ask when he's supposed to be fucking Bucky into the mattress right now, and he presumes that telling Bucky how beautiful he thinks he is in this moment would be a terrible selling point for a video that'll feature up close and personal shots of Steve's dick in Bucky's ass.

So rather than say any of what's actually on his mind, Steve says nothing at all. Apparently, that's the correct choice of action, judging by Tony's nod of approval. He hasn't said a word to break the exquisite reality Steve and Bucky exist within, where it's only them and this bed, the tender moment between them stretching on until the end of time. Or until Tony yells_ "Cut!". _Whichever came first.

He's not really even paying attention to the production crew or the cameras zooming in to capture his teeth clamping down on Bucky's right nipple, worrying the stiff bud gently in between kitten licks and sweet kisses.

No, his interest lies completely with Bucky, who's writhing on the bed in blissful agony; whimpering and biting his lip while his hand snakes down to grab Steve by the cock, giving it a few good tugs that make Steve growl against Bucky's belly.

Steve flips him over before he ever touches Bucky's prick, forcing the breath from his lungs as he tugs his hips up and back. Bucky goes pliant instantly, pressing his chest against the sheets and planting his knees on the mattress; presenting himself to Steve like a gift waiting to be opened.

At Tony's thumbs-up, He quickly gets the memo, forgoing the easier method of removing Bucky's pants in favor of tearing at the seams like a caveman, opening a wide hole in the back that exposes him just the way Steve–and apparently Tony as well–wants.

"Oh, God, Steve_ –fuck _," Bucky pants, blushing scarlet from his face down to his chest. He's not wearing underwear. Steve guessed that he wasn't, but it makes the sudden discovery that much better when his prize is all but thrust into his greedy hands. 

He leans down, giving the pucker a cursory lick that has Bucky's cock jumping where it hangs heavily between his spread legs. It's still somewhat trapped in the black fabric of his pants, leaking from the tip and harder than a rock.

Steve doesn't concern himself with it. He'd rather Bucky come on his cock or not at all, but this isn't that type of video, unfortunately.

Taking a few moments to dig around in the top drawer of the nightstand, Steve procures a bottle of silicone lube and slicks himself up, generously smearing the excess over Bucky's entrance with a finger he then presses in to the third knuckle.

Bucky arches his back like a cat, mouth dropping open as a groan tears from his throat. He's looking directly at the camera as he does it, further reminding Steve that none of this is real in any way that counts. 

_ 'It's just a job _' he says to himself as he slides home, eyes closing in bliss when he bottoms out in Bucky's perfectly tight, exquisitely hot ass.

He doesn't wait or give Bucky any warning before he begins to mercilessly pound into him, nor does he care that he's fucking Bucky without protection.

He's aware of Bucky's test results, as Bucky is of his. Tony requires screening for STDs every six months to make sure his actors stay safe, but even with that knowledge in the corner of his mind, Steve knew already from the title of this video that he'd be barebacking Bucky on this particular occasion.

I mean, ** _'Thick-dicked stud barebacks a twink for the first time' _ **basically spelled it out for him in big bold lettering, so with the proper precautions in place, the only thing they'll be giving each other today is a good fuck.

In fact, Bucky's taken to babbling it's so good, whining various curses along with aborted words and Steve's name as his prostate is abused. Steve smacks his ass just to hear him yelp as well, and he grins triumphantly when he earns a guttural moan right after.

He pulls out just as abruptly as he'd shoved in, flipping Bucky onto his back and tearing off the rest of his ruined pants. Steve shuffles out of his jeans and boxers the rest of the way, tossing the clothing somewhere he couldn't care less about. 

Bucky spreads his legs wider as Steve moves to settle in between them, and he sighs when Steve's hands hook under the back of his knees to fold him practically in half.

He holds position for the couple of seconds it takes for Steve to relubricate his dick and slide back in, fisting his prick and stroking it the way he'd been dying to when Steve had him on his belly.

For the most part, Steve doesn't comment on it beyond the growled out praises of how fucking sexy Bucky is under him, how he's taking his cock so well, and Bucky is eating up every single word of it. 

He preens when Steve threads his hand through his hair, when he kisses along the sharp line of his jaw, when Steve tells him what a good boy he is. The pace stays about the same, just as quick and intense as Steve wants it to be. They're quickly driving each other toward the edge of release, and the closer they get, the louder Steve's grunts and Bucky's whimpers become. 

The entire room is filled with the sound of their passion, and as Bucky clamps down on Steve's cock, coming across his belly in thick ropes with a drawn-out cry, Steve has only seconds to pull out before he joins him in their little slice of heaven on earth; jerking himself off quickly and painting Bucky's spent cock with his warm spunk.

He grins at Bucky's breathless form lying beneath him, ducking his head down to kiss him once more as Tony stands from his chair and shouts _ "Cut!" _

The moment is suddenly broken, the room bursting into action at the sound of Tony's voice. But Bucky seems reluctant to part from Steve, giving him a few feather-light kisses to his lips as Tony approaches.

"That was fucking amazing!" He bellows, clapping a hand on Steve's sweaty shoulder and grimacing when he pulls it back. Bucky hasn't moved an inch. They're still holding each other close, still searching the other's gaze for something they're both desperately trying to find.

"Honestly, Steve, you're a natural in front of the camera. Our viewers are gonna go feral over you two, and I gotta tell ya, I've never seen such chemistry between two people as I've witnessed here with you guys. It's like you were perfectly attuned to each other or something–"

Bucky doesn't appear to be listening to Tony's rambling, all starry-eyed and sated, reaching up to tenderly brush through the hair hanging in front of Steve's face; tucking a rebellious strand behind his ear. Steve presses a kiss to his palm and sighs, just then registering that Tony's fallen strangely silent.

Steve's eyes slide from Bucky to where Tony is gaping at them, unsure what he's really seeing unfold before him.

"Uh-" Tony articulates. He's clearly wary of the prolonged affection, trying to decipher what it is, but even Steve and Bucky don't fully understand what the hell is happening between them at the moment. It's like they're caught up in a riptide, drowning in each other's presence when they can't break the surface for air.

Tony clears his throat, abruptly snapping Bucky out of his trance. "Am I interrupting something? Because it feels like I'm interrupting something here."

"No." Bucky rasps, pushing his hand against the center of Steve's chest to let himself up. Steve backs off and sits on the bed, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "We're good, Tony. Must've been stuck in my head a little more than I thought I'd be."

"Yeah, okay." Tony murmurs, clearly not buying it but unwilling to make any more of a fuss than he already had. "Make sure you eat something, alright, Kiddo? I don't want you dropping or anything."

"Whatever you say, boss." Bucky acquiesced with a grin, shooting Tony a sloppy salute and a wink for good measure. Tony rolls his eyes and leaves, turning his attention on one of the camera guys he's trying to catch up to.

Bucky gives Steve a lingering look as an awkward silence falls between them, biting his cheek in contemplation before he scoots off the bed to head toward the showers, perhaps deciding against whatever he was about to say. But he stops just before he leaves the room, smiling a little to himself.

"Tony's right you know." He says, turning to catch Steve's puzzled gaze. "You're a natural. I know I wouldn't mind a repeat, if you were ever up for it."

"Yeah, of course!" Steve answers a bit too enthusiastically, beaming like an idiot while he sits butt-naked on the rumpled sheets of a lumpy hotel mattress.

Bucky laughs, biting his lip in that way Steve's quickly growing to love, then adds with a coy smirk, "With or without the cameras."


End file.
